Phoenix Maplewood i'mma turn it on with a bang
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Ooc — Riven
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#1
@Saena. Unclaimed portion of the Maplewood, near Feller's Pond.
She was tired— constantly, it seemed. Autumn had already begun, but Tail could feel the cold claws of winter beginning to tear at the world. She had left the Blackthorns months ago, knowing she would need to reach the Wilds in time enough to find the shelter required to survive the imminent snows. Tail knew what drove her, what she was determined to find at the end of her journey— but the days ended quickly, and she never quite made it as far as she had been hoping.

Tail cherished sleep, but the anxiety born of her journey kept her restless, even as she knew she would better serve herself by taking the time to rest. There were days, young and lonely as she was, that a hunt stole all the energy she could muster. She was hard on herself for that; those nights interrupted her rest, too, for she would tell herself that she was becoming her older sister. Failing already.

Tonight, as the sun began to set, Tail could make out mountains in the distance. She wasn't quite sure where she was— if she had made it— but Spine had told her of mountains. That they were some of the most defining features of the Wilds. Before her, a great forest spanned— its leaves just beginning to turn the vibrant colors of fall. She would stay here for the night, then press on for the mountains in the morning.

Unbeknownst to the youth as she stepped between the trunks, scouting a safe place to camp, a portion of the forest was inhabited. She only knew that it was cold, rainy, and blustery— and she wanted to protect herself from it.
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The warmth of home beckoned her, but Saena couldn't sit still, and not only because her wounds pained her and her nights were plagued with nightmares. In the last couple days, the alpha had gone from itchy to itchier. Her whole coat seemed to writhe with it, and her hide twitched involuntarily every time another itch started up. Irate hardly began to describe her; she'd spent the whole day rolling around and rubbing roughly on trees, hardly noticing when she split the scab on her leg until she spotted the blood sticky on her haunch. Leaves clung to it now and she didn't care, because all she could think about was how itchy she was.

Night was falling and Saena was wandering further and further from the heart of the pack land. Reek would probably start to worry and Citali would surely scold her for it, but she couldn't imagine facing them and feeling at all bad about this. She probably would've ripped their faces off. It was only after several long minutes of aimless wandering that the alpha was struck with the brilliant idea of submerging herself in water, or coating herself in mud, to try to find some relief. She had no idea she was harbouring fleas, courtesy of Regipre, but she somehow felt that water or mud would help.

She didn't make it as far as Feller's Pond, though. Before she even exited the maplewood and met the windy, rainy grassland beyond, she caught an unfamiliar scent and tracked it until she caught the dark flicker of a shadow between the trees. Her normal seasonal territoriality didn't rise, primarily because she was busy gnawing at an itch on her shoulder, but she did lace her tone with a growl when she called out, "who the hell're you?"
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The earth was cool and damp on her paw pads as she traversed through the woods. Not many of the leaves had fallen, but those that had were dry and brittle. They crunched as she moved. She sought a sheltered hollow to sleep for the night, and her nose was often thrust to the loam at her feet. The faint crackling of twigs and leaves, she attributed to other creatures moving through the night. It wasn't until the voice called out to her that she froze and lifted her head in alarm.

"Teagan Blackthorn," she responded automatically and obediently, turning slowly to face whoever had spoken. Her posture lowered, tail tucked between her legs, and she stared at the toes of the wolf that had addressed her. She hadn't noticed much sign of wolves in the forest thus far, so she hadn't thought she was trespassing, but perhaps she had made a mistake. Focused on the other's toes, Tail didn't notice that the other wasn't particularly threatening at the moment... but she wasn't about to take any risks. "I'm just passing through— well, I was looking for a place to sleep out of the rain, but I can just pass through if I'm somewhere I'm not supposed to be."
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The other's unease alone prompted Saena to lay back her ears and ease off. It wasn't like her to be so harsh upon approach, but lately she felt oddly restless. She had no idea it was primarily the season and attributed it to the itching of her skin and the stinging of her wounds. That was enough to drive anyone mad. Maybe that's what was happening. She was going nuts. Pretty soon her grip on sanity would slip and she'd start snapping like a rabid dog at anything that moved too quickly.

Or not. She snapped to attention when the foreign wolf, who smelled nothing much like the taiga and very much like "outside", introduced herself. Her ears flickered uncertainly between stiff and tall and relaxed drooping, and finally settled somewhere in-between. Not too relaxed but not overbearing either. Not like that was easy to be when she had no tail to arc. "Blackthorn," she repeated, feeling suddenly like she should know that name, but having absolutely no idea where the familiarity came from. Unbeknownst to Saena, she'd met two Blackthorns in her lifetime. One of them she'd happily kill on sight for her allegiance to the wrong wolves. The other was long, long gone.

The third was right in front of her, though, and seemed ready to move on at a single word. But Saena shook her head no and seated herself with an audible whine and a wince from her wounds, lifted a leg to scratch at the side of her neck, and said, "it's fine. You're not trespassing. You're close, but you're not in the red." Maybe by winter she wouldn't be so tolerant of another wolf's nearness but Saena still retained some of her openness. "You don't smell like the wolves around here," she pointed out, trailing off vaguely and leaving room for Tail to pick up the conversation or leave it if she wanted to.
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Tail cautioned a glance at the other when she repeated her last name, perhaps sensing already that she was in no true danger. If she had been trespassing, it was unlikely she would have been given time to explain herself. Although she noted the pensive tone behind the other's repetition, Tail had no reason to expect there was a reason behind it— perhaps it was a memory technique. "Most call me Tail," she offered helpfully, not realizing that her company was missing her own, "if it's easier."

When the other indicated that she could stay, Tail took a seat. Her brows furrowed briefly in concern at the whine, but felt it wise to stay silent on the subject— at least for now. "That's because I'm not from around here," she responded to the other's observation. "I'm actually on my way to a place called the Teekon Wilds."

She dropped off there, noting the other's agitated twitching and scratching. From the angle she sat, she couldn't see the stranger's wounded leg or missing tail— but the apparent itching concerned her nonetheless. Tail knew the symptoms of fleas, and if she didn't think it were rude to blurt out that the other had them, she might have mentioned it.
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Like, seriously? Saena asked, a little bit deadpan as the thought that the Blackthorn was making fun of her crossed her mind. She was almost a little angry about it. Almost. Is that like, some kind of joke? If you met a wolf missing an ear would you tell them your name is Ear? Although not said unkindly, there was a little bit of an edge to Saena's voice, as if the topic was tender. If it was indeed a cruel joke, she probably would be done with her tolerance, though she was distracted again by another itch on her flank.

She only half heard what Tail said next, but she did catch the bit about the Wilds. Well, you're in 'em, she said between gnaws. This entire place. I'm not actually even sure where they end but as far as I know, everywhere from here south is the wilds. As far as Saena knew, the entire world was the wilds, though she gathered from Tail's words that that wasn't true. The more you know!

Looking for something in particular? she asked, and then abruptly flopped down on the ground and rolled in a futile effort to reach all her itchy spots. Fuck, did you know bear bites make your whole body itchy as all hell? I didn't get the memo myself.
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#7
Apologies for the delay! I'll prioritize this going forward. <3

"Oh—" Tail said, startled. She leaned back, her surprise overriding instinct as she finally allowed herself to fully take in the individual before her. "I'm so sorry. I didn't realize." She felt suddenly self-conscious of her own, strikingly black tail and pulled it tighter against her leg. It seemed the other wasn't overly concerned, for the conversation was allowed to move on rather swiftly.

Tail had arrived, then, and the realization wasn't as impactful as she thought it would be. The Teekon Wilds weren't the whole world, of course, but it wasn't some magical and mystical place like Spine had made it seem. It seemed a great deal like the rest of the world— but sans a ridiculous amount of Blackthorns.

"Somewhere to settle," she answered simply. Somewhere that she could discover herself without the influence of family. Somewhere that she could start her own. Before Tail could even think of elaborating, however, the other flopped abruptly and began wriggling on the ground. "Er.." she began, struggling with how to correct the other eloquently. "I don't think bear bites cause fleas..."
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Saena almost, almost raised a brow at Tail's reaction, but nothing about it suggested it wasn't genuine, so she didn't say anything else on it. Unlike with Juniper, the alpha female wasn't in the mood to joke, however tolerant she was otherwise feeling, else she might've made a jest about it to ease the tension. Instead, she let it linger for a moment, at least as long as it took Tail to point out that bear bites didn't cause fleas.

...Wait, what?

"Fleas?" Saena asked with a puzzled frown and a slow backward tilt of her ears. "But I don't have fl—" and then it dawned on her. Wolves carried fleas, as evidenced by Fox once upon a time, and other animals probably also carried fleas. Was it far-fetched that the bear might have given her fleas?

"Ewwwww," she squealed, backing up and away from Tail as if utterly repulsed with herself. Which she was. "Ew ew! Seriously? I have fleas?" She pranced in place, resisting the urge to shake herself hard solely because she didn't want to shower Tail with her icky parasitic friends. That wouldn't make a good impression. Nevermind the fact she'd already made a terrible one. "Eww eww eww," she continued to squeal as she danced in place, frantically trying to think of a way to rid herself of what she was treating as a plague.
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Before Tail could even begin to patiently describe the symptoms of fleas, and why the stranger most definitely carried them— Saena suddenly erupted in a fit of disgusted prancing and squealing. The yearling struggled to choke back laughter, feeling a odd mix of amused and concerned. Fleas were like the common cold, at least as far as the Blackthorn was concerned— they were easy to get rid of, if you knew what you were doing and if you were quick to act.

"C'mon," she said, a little loudly to ensure she was heard over the other's exclamations. Tail turned, heading towards the eastern edge of the forest. She remembered seeing a pond, and with any luck its shores would be muddy. "We need to go roll in the mud." She hadn't touched the other, but it was better to be safe than sorry. "That'll help suffocate them."
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Unfortunately for Saena, she had next to no medical prowess and had no idea that fleas were easy to get rid of. She also thought of them as wildly contagious and had to wonder who else she'd given them to. The idea that she had to actually touch someone to pass them on would occur to her later, but presently she was concerned about Tail, as well as the core members of her pack. What if she'd inadvertently passed on her disgusting disease to this poor loner? She definitely wouldn't even consider joining Phoenix Maplewood then.

The Blackthorn was much calmer about the situation and suggested they find a mud puddle. Saena nodded vigorously and squeaked, "okay," followed by a hoarse, "thanks for helping me," as she trailed along a good four meters from Tail's backside.
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Luckily, the poor soul didn't seem to notice that the yearling had almost laughed at her— or if she did, her panic was overtaking any other emotion. Tail's mood shifted to full-on problem-solving mode, and she led her itchy, squeaking companion towards the pond. "You'll be fine," she assured the other. "They're annoying as heck, but mud usually takes care of 'em. They only get really bad if someone doesn't realize they have them and passes them on, and so on." A single brush of a shoulder would be enough, but Tail didn't want to further upset her companion.

It occurred to her that the pale wolf may have already passed them on to her pack, especially if she hadn't realized her condition. So, she made a quick addendum, "But even then, all anyone needs to do is take a mud bath. And probably find a new den, just to be safe."

Blessedly, they came upon the muddy shores of Feller's Pond before Tail could stir up more of a panic. Autumn was a good time to cure fleas, anyway— the rains made mud plentiful, and the cool dirt would soothe the bites further. She scouted out a suitable puddle, and with a sidelong glance at the other, Tail dove in— wriggling all around in the mud until every patch of fur was coated. Right down to the tip of her nose.
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Tail spoke as the pair headed for Feller's Pond, putting the young alpha at ease. She couldn't help but wonder, "have you had them?" as she rounded a rock jutting from the ground, her head canted curiously and her ears aloft with interest. Tail certainly knew a lot about fleas. It didn't seem so farfetched to Saena that she'd learned it all from experience. Or maybe the tawny yearling was an accomplished healer where she came from, and remedies like this were part of her presumably encyclopedic knowledge, but she would leave that to Tail to reveal.

The once lovely pond was now a mire with only a little water to boast of in the middle, but it was a perfect place for a mud bath. Tail wasted no time coating her entire body in mud, but Saena lingered at the edge and wrinkled her nose in girlish revulsion. "Do I have to?" she borderline whined, fidgeting at the edge of the mud. Unfortunately, her step wasn't perfect; one paw sank into the mud with a squelch as it welled up between her digits and then she was squealing and prancing all over again, only this time the ground wasn't reliable.

Down came her hindpaw on a particularly slick patch of muddy grass, and down went Saena with a loud slop!